


Those eyes in a different face

by GoodDalekPeppergrinderfromdowntheRiver



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Post-Episode: s07e05 The Angels Take Manhattan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-26 03:15:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6221392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodDalekPeppergrinderfromdowntheRiver/pseuds/GoodDalekPeppergrinderfromdowntheRiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This where River does not meet 12th Doctor in THORS but in Luna, where he is stalking her. </p><p> </p><p>"Eyebrows are permanently fixed like this." He replied. An ecstatic grin rising across his face. She laughed involuntarily again. She took a second to properly drink his features in. Quite old – not that she minded. She herself had an augmented life span, so could not really judge based on age. His features were rather sharp, as if carved in stone. However, it suited him. Made him look mature. She noticed his eyes... they were deep blue and beautiful. His eyes indicated that he was way older than he looked. His eyes were weary and she could see that pain, loss and grief were really good friends with him. She could feel herself falter, and whilst she tried to hold control the sympathy seeping through her bones, she could not. She had seen … she had seen those eyes before... not that face.... but those eyes. She saw those eyes sparkle with unshed tears and those same eyes beam... In the Doctor. She had seen those feelings reflected in her own eyes when she looked in the mirror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys. I have had this chapter for a while, and I thought, why not edit it and publish it on Ao3.

She was tired of merely sitting in her office during her lunch break and wistfully gazing outside of her window. Once upon a time, she would never allow herself to be trapped by the walls around her. She would stroke the vortex manipulator on her wrist and go find herself a battlefield. Sometimes, she would find the action too slow and as a pass time, she would flirt with someone or get married. . She would run in her ridiculously high heeled blood red shoes and she would pull out her gun if anyone irritated her. She'd allow herself to get caught sometimes – just for fun. She could escape from anywhere and anyone. She sometimes enjoyed robbing it in people's faces that she was like quicksilver. Here one minute, and slipping out of your grip the next. She would return to Luna five minutes later into her lunch break and chat with her colleagues.

After she had returned from Manhattan, she had lost the motivation to live a timey wimey life. Indeed, it could be cruel. She had left a Doctor who insisted on using her as an emotional punch bag. Grief had taken its toll and left bitterness and resentments in its place. At first he snarled at her for her lack of emotions. He insisted that she was being stupid hiding all the damage. That he was her husband and that meant he had to be there for her too. It was hard. It really was – she was used to hiding all the damage. Used to having no one to tell... well no one who would really understand and see her properly. The prospect of something different had absolutely frightened her. However, over time she let her guard down and let him in. She told him how empty and broken she felt. How unfair it was that her parents were snatched from her. That she had not even had the chance to be a child to them – the best people in her life were gone. They were gone and there were no loopholes. Initially, he had been accommodating to her grief, but soon it turned toxic. As she continued to complain, she noticed that his smile was tight and despite holding her, the sympathy did not reach his eyes, which were icy in contrast.

Soon after, they had reached the point where he was screaming at her for letting Amy go. For being Melody Malone. For robbing him of his happiness. He was absolutely fuming – angry that she dared to complain and grief when this was all her fault. It was rather cruel. One day he had her under the false pretense that he actually cared about her feelings. One day, he was telling her that it was stupid that she was holding it all in. She had decided that he was right – that they should ease their burden together. Then the next day, he's had the cheek to shout at her for feeling the emotions that he wanted her to share with him. She had left after that. Eyes bright with unshed tears, with black holes where her heart used to be. She left silently. She would not stoop to his level and shout and scream. No. She would hold herself to a higher standard.

At first, she was stung by the indignation – he was being bitter and selfish. She was absolutely fuming. She had been so stupid, to actually strip herself of her defenses and let someone else in. The whole ordeal was brutal. It had left her more stiff and stony than she had ever been. Every time she thought about him, she could not help but let out a bitter laugh. They said that love was supposed to cure you; that people who loved you were supposed to accept you for good and for bad. All love ever did was cripple her.

She tried to use her rational thought to explain away all the pain. He was swallowed by grief and therefore did not mean a word of what he had said. However, rational thought failed her. She was swimming in grief, and she had been able to hold her tongue. She had not allowed bitterness to claw at her. Eventually, with a heavy heart, she had allowed herself to accept that he had mean what he said. He had meant it. He was angry and all the pain was debilitating and for a couple minutes, he was unlike himself. He had put all the charades away and he was unrestrained and... honest.... . She missed her arsehole of a husband. Sentiment was way stronger than anger. He could shout at her all he like, but he was not going to keep her away, for too long anyway.

 

She decided that she would seek him out. However, he seemed determined to hide away from her. She left messages everywhere. She paid visits to his friends. She tried to trace his footprints. All attempts were futile. After four years, she stopped trying to search him out. Eventually, she went back to Luna. Eventually, all the excitement and perks of a timey wimey life were lost and reality took over. She was all alone. Her husband did not want her and she did not have much to show for herself. All her life had been revolved around him. She did archaeology to find him. She did her thesis on him. He was controlling and manipulating her life and it was time to put an end to it. She crushed her vortex manipulator with her heels and cleared her apartment of all things timey wimey. She took of the wedding ring he had given her on their first night as newlyweds and urged herself to believe that they were not properly married anyway.

From then on, she was a free agent! It was rather boring, she had to admit. She no longer had the taste for adventure and she could not be bothered to flirt. It turned out, that being a free agent just meant throwing herself into work. The only times she relented were lunch times, where she would sit at her desk and stare out of the window.

 

 

One day she decided that enough was enough. She would leave her office that lunch time and just …. just … just... get out? And get adventure, perhaps? For the first time in ages, she went out seeking excitement.

Walking down the streets of Luna wasn't really the adventure she craved. The wind was not bashing against her. There were no storms and no sontarans that she could tease for resembling potatoes. However it was good getting out of her office.

From her periphery, she noticed a man. Short silver curly hair. Her was staring at her wistfully. And... she felt something that she could not quite put her finger on.

She entered a cafe and as she anticipated, a few minutes later, the man followed her in. He sat conveniently at the table in front of her, even though all the other tables were empty. River, as always good at feigning obliviousness, did not pay the man any attention. However, she could not control her thoughts as much as she could her expressions and she found herself curious and feeling rather … fuzzy. As she ate her lunch - limp lettuce leaves and thin carrot sticks - she could see that the man was gaping at her. She got that a lot, so she was unfazed.

After she finished her lunch, she got up to pack her plate and furtively stole a proper glance of the man staring at her. He was wearing a blue suit and the inside was laced red. It was rather funny that he was wearing a suit in a cafe - who does that, she thought? She rolled her eyes fondly and smiled involuntarily as she thought of the Doctor. Then she sighed and frowned. Why did he always have to make everything about him? Why did he always have to seep into her mind just when she thought she was doing well by herself? Why was her memory so vivid? Why could she remember how much she loved him and how much it hurt?

To call River Song oblivious would be incredibly insulting. It would be like calling Einstein and Darwin just smart, when indeed, they were revolutionary. It would be like calling a starry night sky a vast stretch of nothingness. It is simply refusing to give credit where it is due. River was the sort to pay meticulous attention to detail even if it was small. She could pick up on a threat hours before it came one. She could notice people furtively trying to steal a glance at her. She would feel if it was going to rain in a weeks time, merely by feeling the density of the air on her shoulders. So obviously, she noticed that there was a man stalking her, when he followed her into the café the second time. Yes, there was such a thing as coincidence, but seeing someone who she had never seen before twice in a role, couldn't be a coincidence.

As she had expected, the weeks to follow are similar. Every day, approximately 200 seconds after she enters the café, he entered too. Always wearing the same suit. Always hushing away the waiter or waitress if they asked him what he wanted to order. She was sure that they found him a nuisance – they all huffed and muttered profanities when he entered. Still, none of the staff had the guts to tell him to leave. His permanently angry eyebrows were like a warning – leave me be. She should not have liked that – kind of did.

 

 

She had expected this day to be the exact same. He would stare and she would ignore him and they would go about their lives after leaving the café. She was walking to the toilet, which meant walking past him. Simultaneously, a waitress was walking away from him and he mumbled under his breath "Pudding brains," and before she could get a grip of herself and control her actions, she laughed. She actually laughed and she laughed audibly. She stopped where she was standing, besides his chair and laughed. Instantly, he had turned towards her. A quizzical and amused look on his face. Oh no – she had just invited him into a conversation. That was not how it was supposed to work. She was supposed to ignore his existence until he decided that he had the guts to talk to her. This was all wrong.

"What is so funny?" He asked in a gruff voice. Most people, she thought, would be taken aback by how coarse his voice was. Perhaps they'd think that his question sounded rather interrogating. However, River had the distinct feeling that this was him in a good mood. Still, she could not help herself but ask, "Why are you frowning?"

"Eyebrows are permanently fixed like this." He replied waggling his thick silver eyebrows. An ecstatic grin rose across his face. No doubt he was enjoying getting an opportunity to communicate with her. She laughed involuntarily again. She could not help it. She took a second to properly drink his features in. Quite old – not that she minded. She herself had an augmented life span, so could not really judge based on age. His features were rather sharp, as if carved in stone. However, it suited him. Made him look mature. She noticed his eyes... they were deep blue and beautiful. His eyes indicated that he was way older than he looked. His eyes were weary and she could see that pain, loss and grief were really good friends with him. She could feel herself falter, and whilst she tried to control the sympathy seeping through her bones, she could not. She had seen … she had seen those eyes before... not that face.... but those eyes. She saw those eyes sparkle with unshed tears and those same eyes beam... In the Doctor. She had seen those feelings reflected in her own eyes when she looked in the mirror.

 

Normally, River Song did not falter. Normally, River Song remained totally unfazed, regardless of how she was feeling. However, this man... there was something about him. Oh, he had already seen too much. He had seen her vulnerability and pain and happiness all in a split second – this was new. 

She was at a loss for what to say. That did not happen very often. She could not even flirt at that moment. She was so transfixed at his eyes. She was staring openly at him. Oh, she so wasn't subtly. Normally, she was. Eventually, she threw out the first words that strung themselves into sentences. "Why are you following me?" She asked after a while.

"I am not following you!" The man said with indignation. It was rather funny. He had sounded so against the idea - he had spat it out as if the idea was absolutely and completely ludicrous. For a second, she was even uncertain - maybe she had got it wrong? Maybe it was all a coincidence?  Maybe the for the past month, he just happened to be in the cafe at the right time? She shook the thought away. It did not seem possible that this was a coincidence. 

"Yes you are! And you gawp. If you wanted to ask me out, all you'd need to do was just ask!" She laughed, taking a seat.  "I don't bite - well unless that is what you want." Oh wow. Now, she was flirting with her stalker. And to think she had accused him of stalking, when she was implying that she _could_ bite him, if he wanted. She was the one who seemed creepy; not her stalker. 

"I am not gawping... There is nothing to gawp at! I do not want to ask you out! I mean, you are nothing special. Get over yourself." He bit back with his rough Scottish accent.

"Ouch. That really is not how you chat up a girl. I am guessing you do not have much practice. No wonder you are lonely." She said. She should have felt offended - her stalker was telling her that she wasn't special. She knew that that was not what a guy was supposed to do. They were supposed to compliment her or flirt - not insult her. However, she she found his blunt words rather daring... 

"Oih! That is mean. I am not lonely." He replied, chuckling.

"What is mean is you telling me I am nothing special." She laughed. "Believe me, I am!" She purred. She took pleasure in his response. His pupils dilated a bit – he was definitely aroused. His breathing rate had increased slightly, and that was with words alone. He fidgeted a bit and would not look her in the eye.

"I am not lonely." He bit back. 

"Well not know, you are with me." She said, leaning into the table further. 

"Well, I do not want you here!" 

"Look, darling. Let me help you out here, because you really aren't smooth when it comes to the asking out a girl thing. If you carry on the way you are, I will probably feel inclined to shoot you." He laughed in response to that - as if she did not threaten him. As if she was flirting. Oh, this man. She should not find him charming - kind of did. "So, are you going to ask me out, or not?."

He stared at her, his mouth opened, but unable to find the words.

"Fine, if I must. But I am only doing this to stop you from stalking me," She conceded. "Next week at Hundley's at 7:00pm." She got up abruptly. 

"I didn't ask." 

"Not with words, no. But trust me when I say, you asked. In fact, you begged." She stood up abruptly and ran towards the toilet, before leaving without even sparing him another glance. Couldn't have him thinking that she was besotted. 

As she rushed back to the university, she had no idea what just happened. She had literally thrown herself on a guy who tried to act as if all he wanted was to be left alone. She was going to go on a date. She had been on dates since the Doctor. However, it had been a long time since she had felt anything that remotely felt like electricity and attraction. It scared her a little – people were supposed to swoon before her. People were supposed to be relentless in their efforts to impress her. It was not supposed to be the other way round for her. It was... it was just something about his him. Something that gripped at her hearts, the minute she got closer to him and had a proper look. She did not know what it was. Was it that he seemed familiar? She could not really put her finger on it.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Initially, she was going to leave and make it there on time. However, she convinced herself out of doing so after she had got dressed. If she got there on time, it would make her seem keen on him. It would make her seem excited and vulnerable and those feelings were weak. What if he smelt the vulnerability on her as if it were perfume? What if he decided that he could take advantage? No. That was not how she wanted it to go down. She wanted to assert her dominance early on. She wanted to know that he was eager early on. She needed to make sure: that he would not even dream of hurting her; that he would accept her, warts and all and that he would be there for her, unconditionally. Then, and only then, would she relent and strip herself of her defenses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have decided that instead of finishing her, I will write a 3rd chapter because I did not want to rush into the sort of make up. 
> 
> I was unsure as to how to construct the date. Did she turn up. have a nice time and then go on more dates with him, still oblivious that hew as the Doctor? Did she realise that it was him before the date and still turn up? Did she turn up to the date and midway through realize it was him? Would she be angry at him or happy to be reunited? There were so many possibilities. Enjoy reading. :)

She was an hour late – deliberately.

She had dressed, done her makeup and hair two hours previous. However, instead of leaving her house, she sat on her bed, waiting for an hour and a half. Just waiting. Bored out of her mind and waiting for time to pass.

Initially, she was going to leave and make it there on time. However, she convinced herself out of doing so after she had got dressed. If she got there on time, it would make her seem keen on him. It would make her seem excited and vulnerable and those feelings were weak. What if he smelt the vulnerability on her as if it were perfume? What if he decided that he could take advantage? No. That was not how she wanted it to go down. She wanted to assert her dominance early on. She wanted to know that he was eager early on. She needed to make sure: that he would not even dream of hurting her; that he would accept her, warts and all and that he would be there for her, unconditionally. Then, and only then, would she relent and strip herself of her defenses.

Oh wow, she had thought. They had nothing yet and she was already thinking about what lay ahead. She had already fallen for fallacy. What if he was not even there? What if he did not think that she was worth waiting for?

 

Eventually, she pulled herself up from her bed and walked to the restaurant. She stood outside the door for a minute, freezing The caustic wind was attacking her bare legs and seeping through her skin, into her bones. It really was an awful day to be wearing a really low cut, short dress. However, despite the cold, she stood there, riddled with hesitance and doubt.

She had to admit, he had certainly left an impression. Had already charmed her with his angry eyebrows and rough Scottish accent. Otherwise, she would not be wearing a figure flattering, easy to peel off, short black dress.

She considered running back home. Then she would regain control. What if he had actually waited? What if the date went well? What if she succumbed to more dates and eventually love? What of she … what if she could actually be happy with someone that wasn’t the Doctor?

She sighed wearily and pushed opened the door. The Doctor had damaged her for other people. Other people were too boring or too dumb. Too cautious and too quiet... the man who she hoped was waiting for her, could be what she needed?

She noticed him as soon as she entered. Angry eyes, glaring down at the table. It was almost … almost cute... His eyes snapped up as she approached the table. Relief flooding through his face. Even his eyebrows softened.

"Sorry, the traffic was hell." She shrugged and he rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow. He wasn't convinced one bit. It was as if he knew that she had deliberately took long.

 

"So, tell me about yourself." River said when they had told the waiter what they wanted to eat.

"What do you mean by that. You already know."

"I mean, like what do you do?" She asked.

"I am a Doctor." He said, stressing the word Doctor. He hoped that her face would falter and that she would give the game away. Why was his psychopath pretending not to know him? It did not make sense – why was she feigning stupid? He had thought that the game was up after she asked him on a date.

"Oh, what type?"

He frowned, more audibly at her question.

"Just... just a Doctor. I help people." It was her time to frown. What sort of response was that? She almost laughed – it was the sort of thing that her husband would say.

" I am an archaeologist, though you probably know that because you have been stalking me."

" I point and laugh at archaeologist."

"Oh, wow. You laugh? That must not be a flattering sound! Must scare away children." She retorted.

"At least I am not a thief and liar. I do not hide stuff in mud and pretend that it was there all along."

"Liar, I think you are. I mean, you did try to lie and say you were not stalking me."

"I was not stalking you! I do not stalk people. You were stalking me. All oogling and gawping. Your obvious attraction for me was embarrassing. So much so, that I pitied you and asked you on a date!"

"Excuse me! I do not oogle. If I looked at you, it was probably the eyebrows. I was probably just transfixed by them in horror."  
  
"Eyebrows? Come on. I thought you were better than that. You are running out of insults so quick. Are you getting slow or am I getting too fast for you? " He said with mock exasperation. However, she could tell that he was enjoying it as much as she was. His teeth were out, in an attempt to smile, no doubt. They both simultaneously fell into a fit of giggles. It was the lightest that she had felt in ages. All her day, for a long time now, had been eroded with work. All her evenings were ordinary. She would watch TV sometimes. Read books. Draw. Stare at her diary. Anything that made time seem as if it was not dragging past slowly. Since boycotting time travel, there had been nothing special or exciting about life... However, merely sitting in a restaurant with a stranger had left her feeling so … so alive...

"There is always a noticeable feature. Last time it was the chin. Time before, the hair." He added. She stared at him, utterly perplexed. River could decipher any nonsense that the Doctor said. Her Timelord brain made her astute and quick to catch on. This had been the first time that she had been genuinely baffled in ages!

"What?" She asked.

"Don't play stupid. You are better than that. You know it is me, don’t you?" He asked.

"Who are you supposed to be?" She asked, unsure as to how to react. She looked at him – tried to look at him properly. If she had met him before, she would have remembered him; who could forget those eyebrows and his sharp tongue? However, as she looked into his eyes, she was overwhelmed with a sense of familiarity. It was as if her heart and soul recognized him, but her brain was not putting two and two together... Those eyes – those beautiful blue eyes – spoke volumes. He was happy there and then with her – he could not hide the gleam in his eyes. However, the hurt, pain and loss, were laid our bare too. He looked at her as if... as if she was there, but gone as well. Like a ghost? As if she was all he needed and ever wanted. As if she could mend all the tears and bruises on his soul. But as if, it was too late. As if there was not enough time. He looked at her as if she meant worlds and universes, when she had only just met him.

She flinched and continued to stare at him. Her heart was beating vigorously and sporadically – skipping a beat here and there. Tears were running down her face and she found herself unable to force air into her lungs. Her brain could not comprehend why she was feeling that way.

"River... your eyes are leaking..." He said hesitantly and she held her breath. Now, she was shaking and people her eyes were wide with disbelieve. He had called her River... he had said it so fervently and gently... no one for a long time had called her River...

After a couple minutes, she managed to regain composure. She pulled wiped the last of her tears with tissue and checked in the mirror for smeared makeup. When she was positive that her mascara had not smudge, she took a few slow, deep breaths and stared at the man in front of her.

"Wow, you are really bad at this. I am crying and all you do is sit there, watching. Definitely not good with this whole sort of comfort thing." She laughed shakily.

"River – I... I thought you did not want me to touch you..."

"And I mean, I am wearing a really nice dress and my hair is done and I look nothing less than stunning and you did not even compliment me or notice really. You just looked at my face." She took a couple more breathes and closed her eyes. Whilst doing so, her husband grasped her hands. His hands were so rough, yet they fit in hers perfectly. She quickly removed her hands from his – she did not want to cry anymore today.

It... it... it was him... The Doctor. Her husband... How hadn’t she noticed? She had cried in front of her husband. The last time she cried in front of him, was when he was telling her that it was her fault that her parents were gone. The last time she had seen him was when she walked away from all his accusations and foul words. He didn't get to do this! He did not get to hurt her and get away with it. No. She was stronger than that.

Her eyes snapped opened and she had stopped shaking. He looked at her, wistfully. As if he cared. As if he had missed her so much. As if all he wanted to do was hold her and cherish her. She was so tempted to succumb and patch things up. After all, it was not this Doctor who has hurt her. It was the floppy haired, gangly 10 year old regeneration. However... however, it was not fair on her. He got to hurt her and she had to just suppress her feelings because she would not meet the Doctor who hurt her for ages. By which time, he would have forgotten or would be more than eager to dismiss her feelings.

"I cannot do this. I really can't." She said smiling sadly at him.

She sighed heavily before pushing back her street and leaving the restaurant.

 

He sat there thinking. Why was she crying? Why was she pretending that she did not know him? Surely River had seen his new regeneration? Yes... he had not seen a living River Song since Manhattan... but it could not have been that long for her? Right? It would not make sense. She had asked him on a date and laughed when he called the waiters in the café pudding brains. When she looked at him that evening, her eyes had sparkled. She was clearly besotted...

Realization dawned all at once. She had genuinely thought that he was a stalker, hadn't she? She genuinely did not know who he was... and she should have been fine with finding out it was him. Relieved even... Only she was crying... so maybe the last time he met this River, he had hurt her. He raked his brain, thinking of what the clumsy idiot him must have done... It must have been so bad because normally when he hurt her, she hid the damage... what could he have done? Suddenly, it dawned at him. He was absolutely horror struck. The aftermath of Manhattan....

He considered running after her. He really did. That was how it happened in movies. They guy ran after the girl and apologized or confessed his true love to her. The they would make up in the middle of the street and end up happily ever after. However, the Doctor know that their love was not made for happy ever afters. He knew that if River walked away, then it probably meant that she needed space. That she needed time to compose herself. That if he dared to follow her, she would pull out a gun.

So he sat there, trying to ignore all the glances that people were not to sly, casting him. He would wait and hopefully, she would relent.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are probably thinking, how can River be so oblivious? How can River not know her own husband? I mean, shouldn't she feel his presence? Shouldn't she be able to look into his eyes properly and figure out it was him?? I thought that whilst watching THORS and I thought about it. Perhaps River does know it is him, in her heart. Perhaps that is why she is drawn to him? Perhaps that is why in the THORS that she opens up to him about her diary. Why she allows him to call her River. Why she cannot help but laugh. She knows in her heart, but her brain will not allow her to acknowledge it because he hurt her so much the last time. Because hoping that it is him, is way too much than she can take. I tried to sort of portray that here. Hope it worked. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided midway through the chapter that I would do a sort of what if River met Jack. There would obviously be a lot of flirting. 
> 
> Enjoy :)

The had decided through an unspoken contract that the Doctor would be the one to wait this time. He would turn up to the cafe where he used to observe his wife at her hour of lunch. She would avoid the place as like the dark night sky avoided the sun. She would avoid the cafe until she decided that she had punished him enough. Until the pain and indignation clawing at her chest were all gone and replaced by missing her husband. Till then, he would wait.

He would wait. No cheat codes, tricks and time travel. He would not get bored and leave to find a new companion. He would whisk her - let's face it, it is always a her - to see the vastness beyond the earth. He would not practice his electric guitar and try and perfect the old but cool look that this regeneration had desperately sought after. He would just let time take its toll. He would allow himself to get bored and tired of waiting. He would allow himself to hope that the next person who entered would be her and he would allow himself to lose hope about ever being reunited with his wife. Perhaps waiting was the most imperative thing. Perhaps it was his go to try on her shoes and see what he had imposed on her so many times before.

He rented out a hotel - money was not an object when he had his sonic screwdriver. He slept there at night... Well rather more, stared at the glossy ceiling and contemplating existence.

In the mornings, he would leave the hotel and he would go on a walk around Luna. He would time it perfectly so that he would not bump into River. He did not want to see her prematurely. That might make things worse and push her further away. Then he would arrive at the cafe and hour before her lunch and he would wait there for most of the rest of his day. He was not ordinarily a patient man. Everytime he regenerated, his personality changed a bit. Well the last regeneration had brought about.a surmount change. From giddy to grumpy and from hopeful to lacking hope. However, one thing that was always constant was his impatience. Whatever generation, he would much rather favor skipping 10 years into the future than watch the rosebud unfold and bloom.

However, he could and he would endure the sloppy slow second and horrible hours for his psychopath.   


Upon discovering that it was her husband, River Song had cried. Then she tried to play it cool. After deciding that it was too much for her, she left the restaurant and ran home. She threw off her heels somewhere along the way home. When she arrived home, she raced to her room, where she hid herself under the safety of her covers. Her feet were badly bruised - she had cut her feet on glass whilst running on the pavement. Her makeup was smudged over her face leaving dried streaks of black rivers along her cheeks. Her eyes were a raw pink color and she was shivering. However, her hearts were worse for wear that she actually was. She had no idea how she managed to run home. How she was still heaving air into her lungs and shivering, because her hearts were not beating. They were broken beyond repair. Even a miracle could not save her. She curled up in a fetal position and tried to hold the broken pieces together.

She started sobbing but all the tears had dried to her face leaving her face itchy. Eventually, she was howling in sheer agony, but soon, her throat was so dry that all she could do was stay silent and still.

She had not cried when her parents died. Did not cry when he tore her world apart after Manhattan. She had not cried when the silence tortured and manipulated her. River Song had never cried before. But that night, all the vulnerability, pain and hurt that she had tried to suppress had escaped her.

Eventually, she fell asleep. She woke up the next morning feeling weary. She stared at herself in the mirror. Oh, she was a mess. He had told her all those years ago that she was silly for hiding the damage. That he despised all she stood for if she could not even shed a tear. She looked at herself. Damaged and all cried out. No doubt he would only find more reasons to scald her. She could never win with him!

She decided that enough was enough! She was not going to wallow in all the pathetic feelings that were overwhelming her. She was going to go on an adventure. Find excitement.

She managed to secure herself a new vortex manipulator from a man called Jack Harkness - she refused to call him captain. He had insisted that he travelled with her for a bit and sensing that she would have more adventure with him, she agreed. She threw on a long red dress with a modest neckline and put on her favorite red blood heels. She stuffed her hallucinogenic lipstick between the vortex manipulator and arm and off they went.

 

She only lasted a week time travelling. She ended up nearly being eaten by Mayans. Being chased by Sontarans – twice. She went to see the dawn of time, just for fun. And she spent a couple days playing black jack with Jack on a battlefield somewhere.

It was Jack that convinced her to go and see the Doctor, whilst they were sitting in the battlefield playing black jack.

"So, tell me about yourself, Professor River Song."

"Not much to say," she lied.

"I bet there is plenty, but you just do not trust me," He winked salaciously. " I know your type. Psychopathic, always looking for others achilles heel. Saying so much but nothing at the same time. Flirt. I know your type and like your type. You’re the sort of person I want to wake up next to."

"Run away from, when I am sleeping, you mean." She corrected him laughing. "I may be a flirt, but you are worse. I mean, who calls themselves captain?"

"There is a man who calls himself The Doctor. Trust me, Captain is not as prestige as that. I wouldn't run from you. Pretty face. Deadly. Curves in the right places. Probably talented in the right things. My type."

At the mention of her husband, she stiffened and Jack was quick to notice. "Ah, so you have met the Doctor? Should have known. Time travelling psychopath. I bet he never could resist?"

She smiled – they smile not reaching her eyes. She laid down a card and in a uproar, Jack declared that her win was not fair – she had distracted him.

"How do you know him? Companion?"

She scoffed at the word. "A lot more than that!" She exclaimed.

"Oh... so he got there first? Story of my life." Jack sulked and she hit him on the shoulder playfully.

"If you misbehave, I may be heading your way."

"Misbehave always." He smirked. "How is the Doctor?"

River again stiffened noticeably. This time, Jack called her up on it. " Part on bad terms?"

"Sort of." She mumbled, not willing to diverge the ins and outs of her relationship even to a friend of the Doctors.

"Yes, he can be a bit of an arsehole at times. Left me stranded and avoided me like the plague then tried to play it off like nothing happened the next time he saw me. I was so happy to see him, that I did not grumble. Did he leave you to?" 

"Sort of." She replied placing down another card onto the dusty orange ground. "Well... he pushed me away and forced me to leave. I tried to find him and he stayed hidden and submerged in the shadows. I thought I could get my life back on track without him and then he pops up out of nowhere with a new face and wants to continue from where we left off." She really had not intended to fall apart emotionally. She had thought that she would keep her emotions close, like the cards that clung to her palms.

He looked at her. For a minute, he was silently scrutinizing her. She felt rather uncomfortable. As if she were stripped of all her defenses. As if she what he saw was crystal clear. As if she was not River, the enigma and mystery, but River, the little girl with untidy feelings and vulnerability.

"At least he came back for you." He whispered after a minute. His eyes were soft and had lost it's usual flirty glint. " He's an idiot for letting someone special like you go. He really must have hurt you. Said some things he shouldn't, I am guessing. Things that hurt. Things that you do not expect to hear from someone you love. Though probably to save you from him. If he is back, then he may have decided that he wants all that love has got to offer, even the pain... and I think... perhaps that is worth fighting for,"

It was River Song's turn to stare at him silently. Jack Harkness wasn't just a pretty face. Perhaps he was wise? Perhaps he was even right about the Doctor? Perhaps... perhaps it was time for her to find her husband?

"What regeneration is he at?"

"Thirteenth. He's all old and grumpy and Scottish now."

"Ginger?"

"Still not ginger."

" Will you come with me?" She asked. "To go and see him?"

"No... I will wait for the day that he decides that I am worth coming back for and until then..." He pulled River Song to her feet and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"It was a pleasure to meet you. Shame you are taking. If he screws up, give me a call." He said before he walked off in the opposite direction.

 

She had set the vortex manipulator to four months since she had left Luna. She knew that she should give him another chance. However, she wanted him to wait for her, just a little bit. Just to see how it felt. As she walked to the café, she briefly considered the idea that her husband may not have even waited. He may have got fed up after a day. He may be somewhere lost in space and time, with a new companion. He may have forgot about the wife he broke... Quickly, she shook the thoughts out of her head.

She pushed open the café door and as the door opened, he looked up. Eyes full of hope and anticipation.

"River!" He exclaimed. His voice was rather gruff – not intentionally (he couldn't help that his new regeneration meant that few things he said sounded happy.)

"Hello sweetie," She said weakly, as she sat opposite him.

"I never meant to hurt you. Actually, the gangly idiot me thought that if I hurt you, I could push you away and that you would leave... And... I thought then that you were better off without me. Then I realized that I am just a selfish old man. I do not care that you are better off without me or that I make you worst. I need you River Song. More than anyone. More than everything. I am a greedy old man and I love you."

She sighed heavily and reached over the table to intertwine her fingers with his. His hands were smaller, wrinkled and rough. However, in his hands, hers still felt as if they were in the right place. Regardless of what face he wore.

"I love you too sweetie." She replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not know whether to end with an I love you or not. However, I remembered that one of the tags I put was angst with a happy end.   
> So there was your happy end guys.   
> Hope you enjoyed it :)


End file.
